


Nothing Broken, Nothing Thrown

by VileVenom



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Eldritch Abomination Cecil, Headcanon that Carlos' mom is Roman Catholic, M/M, Religious objects
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-01
Updated: 2013-09-01
Packaged: 2017-12-25 08:19:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/950833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VileVenom/pseuds/VileVenom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carlos' mother sent him off to Night Vale with a box of things she thought her son might need. Of course, Carlos hadn't realized the practical application of said things, not until he'd been living in Night Vale for over a year.</p><p>Too bad Cecil hadn't told him before that he shouldn't wear a rosary around the lab.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nothing Broken, Nothing Thrown

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I know long notes before a fic are lame, but head canons will explain certain aspects of this fic.
> 
>  **Please read**  
>  So, I enjoy the idea that Night Vale citizens are not what they appear to be, and glamours are the easiest way to explain away why normal folks don’t notice these things. At least, not right away.
> 
> Also, the reason that the Sheriff’s Secret Police and the City Council insist that ‘Angels Don’t Exist’, is that when people have faith in religious icons, objects, or beings, they gain power. Thus, Old Woman Josie is immune to anything that happens in Night Vale, because she believes in the angels, and they have power around her.  
> So! When a person of faith uses a religious object (ie: a cross), they have power in Night Vale against monsters, etc. But, when a person without faith uses then, they’re useless.
> 
> That is all, thank you.
> 
> Title from Suzanne Vega's 'Luka'

Cecil tilted his head slightly as Carlos opened the box he’d brought out from one of the many closet spaces in the lab. “So, what exactly did you say was in the box?” he asked, peeking over Carlos’ shoulder as the scientist began to pull different odds and ends out of the box.

"Just some things my mother sent along with me," Carlos hummed, setting a small statue of the Virgin Mary down on the floor, next to a framed picture of his family when he was obviously still very young. "I left it here in the lab, because, well, to be honest, at the time I didn’t think I’d be staying here as long as I have. Plus, she sent me a rather large amount of religious paraphernalia, and, y’know, science," Carlos murmured, demonstrating by pulling a large crucifix out of the box and waving it through the air. He didn’t notice the way Cecil deftly stepped back as he set it on the floor.

"But, now that I have been here this long," Carlos continued, unaware of how Cecil took a large step to the side to distance himself from the object Carlos was still taking out of the box, "I’ve come to realize that perhaps there is more to that line of thinking. Even in a scientific sense. At least, here in Night Vale." He snorted quietly as he pulled a long rosary from the box, before shrugging and draping them around his neck. Cecil let out a quiet breath, slumping into a chair across the room from Carlos.

"I mean, with all the horror terrors that seem to continuously pop up here," Carlos went on, piling a small stack of hymn books and bibles on the floor, "And with Old Woman’s Josie’s, ah, ‘guests’, it makes me wonder as to the effect religious objects might have here. I can no longer discount their validity, after my observations. If anything, they’ll at least provide me with interesting experimentation options." He finally turned to find Cecil slouched in the chair he’d fallen into, a look of concern flitting across his face.

"Cecil?" Carlos murmured, rising from the floor and slowly making his way over to the radio host. He frowned when Cecil flinched away from his fingers when he’d reached out to check his temperature. "What’s wrong?"

"I, ah, seem to have come down with a sudden fever," Cecil hummed, giving Carlos a wobbly smile, sweat obviously forming on his brow, "I think, perhaps, it would be best if I went home for the rest of the day."

"Nonsense," Carlos said, crouching down in front of Cecil, "I wouldn’t want to make you walk all the way back home if you’re not feeling well. We can go upstairs to my apartment and I’ll make you some tea. My mother always swore by her tea."

"Carlos," Cecil whispered, obviously touched by the scientists’ words, though he flinched away from Carlos’ touch once more when Carlos moved to hold his hand. "That’s very sweet of you, but I really think it would be best if I left. Wouldn’t want you to get sick because of me."

"I doubt I would," Carlos hummed with a light laugh, mentally taking note of the way Cecil kept shifting away from him and flinching when he went to touch him. "I’ve come into contact with plenty of viruses and bacteria over the years, thanks to work, so my immune system is pretty good," he said as he rose back to his feet. He chewed on the inside of his cheek for a moment, before deciding that a tiny experiment wouldn’t be out of line, even if he had decided from day one of getting involved with Cecil that using his boyfriend as a means to figure out how certain circumstances would effect the residence of the desert town was out. He held out a hand to Cecil with a soft smile on his face, wondering if Cecil would take it or not, given his tendency towards gushing over every act of ‘chivalry’ Carlos seemed to bestow upon him, despite the fact that his touches seemed to either bother the radio host, or cause him some form of discomfort.

Cecil stared at the outstretched hand for a long moment, before visibly swallowing and reaching a tentative hand out to take Carlos’, then pulling back at the last minute. “On second thought,” the radio host hummed, a strained grin on his lips, “I’m actually feeling pretty okay. Maybe you could finish with your box, and I’ll be feeling well enough that we could go out for coffee after?”

Carlos frowned lightly down at Cecil, which seemed to cause the radio host discomfort as his smile slipped and he fidgeted in the chair. “You’re obviously not well, Cecil,” Carlos said with a light frown, “You’re beginning to sweat profusely, and you’re looking far paler than normal. You should really come upstairs with me to rest until you’re feeling well enough to walk home.”

Cecil squirmed in his chair, his down cast gaze flicking only briefly up to the rosary hanging around Carlos’ neck, but it was enough for the scientist to notice. He glanced down at the wooden beads around his neck, a furrow between his brows. “Cecil,” he intoned, lifting a hand to wrap around the small cross that hung from the end of the necklace, “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

Again, Cecil squirmed, letting out a shuddering breath as he lifted his eyes to Carlos’ face, his fingers compulsively flexing and relaxing around the arms of the chair he sat in. “I…I can’t,” he all but whispered, slouching even further in the chair, if at all possible.

"Why?" Carlos rumbled quietly, letting the rosary go and leaning forward slightly, the small cross swinging from his neck coming within close proximity to Cecil’s head. The radio host visibly shuddered and curled away from Carlos, his whole existence seeming to ripple. Carlos took a quick step back, which caused Cecil to relax minutely in the chair.

"Carlos," Cecil whimpered as the scientist continued to slowly move away from Cecil, a small frown on his face. Tears welled up in Cecil’s eyes as he cast his gaze down towards the lab’s floor. "I’m sorry," he whispered, covering his face with his hands. He heard Carlos move across the floor, but his lack of vision did not prepare him for the sudden soft touch against his shoulder. He let out a wretched sob as pain shot through his right shoulder where Carlos had touched him, his visage seeming to ripple in and out of existence as several long tentacles managed to pull themselves free of the ink that held them tight to Cecil’s skin, and Carlos beat a hasty retreat across the room. Cecil hiccuped miserably as a third eye blinked open on his forehead, only to be followed shortly by two more just below his ‘regular’ eyes, and his teeth formed a sharp grimace that held far too many canines then it had any right to.

"Cecil," Carlos breathed, stared wide-eyed and open mouthed at the radio host, who shrank in his chair, turning to have his back towards Carlos, his tentacles curling around him.

"I’m so sorry," Cecil murmured, half muffled by his hands, "I never wanted you to see me like this! But-but I couldn’t hold my glamour any longer."

"Glamour-?" Carlos muttered, quickly taking a mental tally of the way Cecil had been acting around him since he’d pulled out the box of his mother’s belongings (because he could never consider the set of candles shaped like tiny religious figures his own), and coming to a quick realization. He pulled the rosary from around his neck and tossed it back into the box, before he shoved the whole mess of objects back into the closet from whence they came, and shutting the door. He then ever so slowly began to approach Cecil once more.

"I should leave," Cecil stated, swiveling his chair around so Carlos still could not see his face as he rose from the chair and hurrying towards the door.

"Cecil, no!" Carlos called, reaching out to try and grab one of Cecil’s arms, though instead he managed to wrap his fingers around one of the relatively slick tentacles that were still wrapped somewhat protectively around the radio hosts’ body. Cecil stopped dead in his tracks, hazarding to peer cautiously over his shoulder at Carlos, the two of five eyes that the scientist could see full of oddly purple-ish tears. "Cecil," he repeated, in a quieter, more reverent tone.

"I should go," Cecil whispered, though rather than trying to wrench away from Carlos, he turned ever so slightly, giving the scientist a better view of the five startlingly glowing eyes filled with tears.

"I wish you wouldn’t," Carlos offered, his mind stuck somewhere between wanting to comfort his boyfriend, freaking out over the face that Cecil had sprouted three extra eyes, dozens more teeth, and tentacles, and the fact that he desperately wanted to go fetch his ipad to take notes on this rather unexpected development. He especially knew his last instinct was rather inappropriate, and quickly squashed it, given that this was still Cecil, and he didn't want to make the radio host feel as though he was just another experiment to Carlos.

"But, I’m not-I’m this," Cecil near mumbled, uncurling a tentacle and holding it up, as if attesting to his comment. "I-You’re human," he continued, finally turning to fully face Carlos, a look of shame settling across his features and Carlos let Cecil’s tentacle slip from his fingers, "Aren't you afraid?"

Carlos chewed on his lower lip at Cecil’s question, allowing himself time to digest the situation, and let his his mind work through the facts at hand, as he wiped the odd slick substance that remained on his fingers from Cecil’s tentacle onto his lab coat. Cecil began to turn away once more after a moment or two, though Carlos was quick to lift a hand to stop the radio host from fleeing once more. “Just-You need to give me a moment to answer you, Cecil,” Carlos stated, shoving his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. Cecil nodded in response, shifting from foot to foot idly as he twisted his hand together nervously in front of him.

Finally, after much mental debate and reasoning, Carlos looked back up at Cecil, a hint of a smile on his face. “Are you still Cecil Palmer, host of Night Vale Community Radio? The singular resident of this strange little town that welcomed me with open arms the moment I came to reside here, and made sure everyone else in town did the same? Do you still like my hair, and find what I do interesting, even if you don’t understand it half the time?”

Cecil gave Carlos an odd sort of look, before nodding slowly. “Of course I am.”

"Then, no," Carlos confessed, his smile slowly growing, "I’m not afraid. I mean, true, the tentacles will take some getting used to, and I do find being stared at by more than one pair of eyes on the same person a touch disconcerting, but to be frank? You’re still you. Just, with some added features."

Cecil stared at Carlos in bewilderment for a good long minute, before tears began to trickle down his face again, and a blush spread across his cheeks (at least, Carlos categorized it as a blush. He couldn't think of what else the odd discoloration on Cecil’s cheeks might be). “Oh, Carlos,” Cecil nearly wept, opening his arms to pull Carlos into a tight embrace, “My perfect, beautiful, wonderful Carlos!”

Carlos couldn't help the quiet, indignant squeak that left his as Cecil’s tentacles curled around him, effectively making him unable to squirm away from the radio hosts’ affection. “And I promise,” he hummed, once he’d finally managed to wiggle himself loose, though Cecil would only let him get an arms length away, “No more religious artifacts. At least, not while you’re in the room.”

Cecil giggled and grinned widely at Carlos, and the scientist made another quick mental note to get used to just how wide and sharp Cecil’s smile seemed to be when he wasn't wearing his glamour as soon as possible.


End file.
